


Of Birds, Butterflies, and Daffodils

by ectoPaleontologist



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Acceptance, Angst, Blood and Injury, Comfort, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, Genderqueer Character, Healing, LGBTQ Themes, Mild Blood, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Lucina, Nonbinary My Unit | Reflet | Robin, Other, Tenderness, Treating Wounds, Yeah it's gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25418011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectoPaleontologist/pseuds/ectoPaleontologist
Summary: Robin takes a walk alone to the edge of camp one night to meet a familiar, enigmatic masked figure, injured and alone. They tend to Marth's wounds with great care, the small space between them occupied by a new yet welcome openness and the occasional knowing silence. Two kindred spirits find respite in each other, accompanied by a bed of freshly bloomed daffodils.Here is my very tropey, very self-indulgent submission for Day 5 of Fire Emblem Trans Week 2020, featuring Solidarity and Flowers! Robin and Lucina (AKA masked Marth) are two of my favorite characters from all of Fire Emblem and their supports and others conversations from Awakening are really heartfelt and meaningful to me. Here, I've headcanoned them both as non-binary with Robin using they/them pronouns and Marth/Lucina using he/him pronouns for now. This piece was actually really fun to right and I may follow this one up in the future. I hope you enjoy!
Relationships: Lucina/My Unit | Reflet | Robin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: Fire Emblem Trans Week 2020!





	Of Birds, Butterflies, and Daffodils

With the warm glow and ambient chatter of the camp behind him, Robin strolled toward where the grassy clearing the Shepherds took respite in gave way to a forest of oak trees with gently swaying leaves, the flower beds of daffodils in the clearing fading into scattered clusters that dotted the forest floor. They took in a deep breath of cool, night air, closing his eyes and holding it in his lungs as their fingers absentmindedly ran over the well-worn cover of a dog-eared tome in their hands. They held the breath for a moment longer and exhaled, opening their eyes again and gazing into the empty forest. There they stood amongst the swaying flowers and grass and silent trees, listening to the faint whistle of the wind as it gently rustled their hair and tugged at their robe. Just below that whistle, they picked up another sound: the leaves rustling followed by a twig snapping not too far into the forest.

Robin frowned, peering off into the direction of the sound. Slowly, they flipped the tome open with one hand and extended the other before them with two fingers pressed together, preparing a spell as they cautiously stalked closer. The wind started to pick up ever so slightly as they moved deeper into the forest, a low howl winding its way around the twisted trunks and whistling through the canopy above. Again, they heard another twig snap, this time from behind a nearby tree. Without glancing at their tome, a small jolt of electricity crackled along their outstretched fingertips.

“Who’s there? Reveal yourself,” their voice called out, punctuating their command with another small crackle of electricity.

They rounded the tree to see a blue-haired, masked figure slumped against its base in a small flower bed of daffodils, clutching a red-stained slash on their stomach with another oozing red on their upper arm.

“Marth? Is that you?”

Robin lowered their hands, eyes wide.

“Come no closer,” Marth coughed, his low, raspy voice tinged with pain. “Please, pay no mind to me.”

“What do you mean ‘pay no mind’? You’re bleeding out!”

Robin tucked away their tome and knelt closer to get a better look.

“Here, let me call over Lissa, she can-“

“No, please don’t.”

“Why not?”

Marth avoided Robin’s gaze. 

“I... cannot interact more than is necessary... for reasons I am not allowed to say. It may have unforeseen consequences.”

“I’m not sure what that means,” they said, leaning in close to get a better look and his wounds, ”but I can’t just leave you here like this.”

“I’m fine, truly. I’ve suffered greater wounds than this, believe it or not.”

Robin pursed their lips, thinking before they said, “I know a little bit of first aid. I’m going to go grab some supplies to patch you up. Stay here.”

Marth tried to reach up in protest but immediately grunted and clutched his chest again. 

“It’ll just be me,” Robin reassured. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone else know you’re here.”

Before Marth could say anything Robin was already on their way back to the camp. Marth leaned back against the tree and sighed, peering up at the scattered slivers of moonlight shining down through the canopy above. He ran his free hand through his hair and gently shook his head. 

Only a couple minutes later, Robin returned with quick, hushed footfalls, clutching a staff and two tomes close to their chest. They knelt down next to Marth and gently set the staff and tomes down, then reaching into his robe and producing a compact, brown bottle. They pulled out the cork and splashed a potent smelling liquid onto their hands, scrubbing them thoroughly before snapping their fingers and igniting their hands in flames for a brief second. Promptly, they flicked their wrists a few times until the flames dispersed, wicking upwards into the air above where they settled into seven small, floating spheres of fire acting as light. Moving quickly, they replaced the cork and set the brown bottle aside, then produced a canteen and a white washcloth from inside their robe.

“Alright, my hands are disinfected now. I’m going to apply some pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding” Robin explained. “Can you lift your tunic up a bit for me please?”

“I- I understand,” Marth replied, somewhat flustered.

He complied, lifting the tunic and underlying turtleneck up, revealing a toned abdomen adorned with pale, faded scars streaking across from various directions, and of course, the fresh gash just below the ribcage.

“Thank you,” Robin said before firmly pressing the folded up cloth over the wound.

Marth inhaled sharply through grit teeth.

“Sorry about that,” Robin said. 

With their free hand, they produced another cloth from his robe, handing it to Marth.

“Here, press this one up against the one on your arm. I’ll get to that one after I patch this one up.”

“Right,” Marth said.

They sat in silence for a moment before Marth spoke up and asked, “Why are you doing this?”

Robin cracked a smile as he said, “Well, I’m pretty sure you’re on our side and I couldn’t just see someone injured and do nothing about it.”

“I see,” Marth mused. “It truly wasn’t necessary, but you have my gratitude.”

Robin chuckled as they said, “My, you’re as stubborn as Chrom.”

Immediately, Marth averted his gaze, his face seemingly growing pale beneath his butterfly mask. 

“Sorry, I was only teasing. Speaking of Chrom though, your sword is the spitting image of his Falchion, not to mention that back during your duel in Ferox, your fighting style appeared to echo his own.”

Marth shifted uncomfortably, blurting out, “I believe I’m feeling better now. I must be on my way.”

He attempted to push himself up, but fell back to the ground, wincing in pain.

“Easy now, I’m not done treating your wounds.” Robin sighed as they said, “It is not my goal to antagonize you or subject you to undue scrutiny, but there is a lot that we don’t know about you. How about in exchange for treating your wounds, you answer a few questions for me?”

Marth pursed his lips for a brief moment, sitting in calculated contemplation.

“Very well then, that seems like a fair exchange. I concede.”

Robin lifted the now stained cloth to check on the wound, setting it aside and producing a fresh one to wipe the surface of the wound. 

“Alright then. What were you doing at Arena Ferox?”

“I was... partially curious. I was curious to see if the tales of Chrom’s strength were true to reality. Besides, it’s not everyday you can challenge the prince of Ylisse to a duel.”

“You did put up a good fight,” Robin said, nodding along. ”Your own skill with the sword is not to be taken lightly, though it did feel like you left a few too many openings and lagged ever so slightly, as if you were holding back.”

“You’re quite the perceptive one.”

“Well I am a tactician. Being perceptive is sort of my job.”

“I did in fact exercise some restraint. It was never my intent to harm him, only to see his strength for myself with my own eyes. Like I said before, it’s not a common opportunity.”

“I believe you. You don’t appear to have ill intent against Chrom or the Shepherds. Looks like the bleeding has stopped, I’m going to wash the wound out now with water.”  
Robin unscrewed the canteen and poured it over the wound. Marth stifled a pained grunt. Gently wiping the wound dry, Robin leaned in for a closer look. Although it extended for several inches horizontally, it didn’t appear to be very deep.

“I don’t think this one is going to be life-threatening, but I’m going to disinfect the skin around it just in case.”

“Very well.”

Robin removed the cork from the brown bottle and splashed the concoction on a small cotton cloth, gingerly rubbing it around the surface of the wound. Marth groaned slightly.

“It’s alright,” Robin reassured, “you’re doing great so far.”

They set the bottle and cloth aside, grabbing the staff with one hand and placing the orb at the end near the wound, thumbing through a tome with their other hand. The orb at the end of the stuff began to glow softly.

“Alright, this might take a moment to close up. If I may ask, how did you get these wounds in the first place?”

“There was a group of brigands not far from here headed towards the camp.”

“And you forced them away all on your own?”

“They didn’t heed my warning and attacked, so I had no choice but to cut them down.”

“Marth, that’s... that’s both impressive and horrifying. How many were there?”

“Eight total. I’m not proud, but if it means that Chrom and the others are protected, then so be it.”

“You took on eight brigands on your own!? Marth, I- I appreciate your efforts, truly, they are quite admirable, but you needn't commit to solitude and follow us as a shadow. If I hadn’t found you, things could have been much worse.”

“If I don’t, there is nothing else that stands between the Shepherds and catastrophe. Chrom especially must be protected. If not then...“ Marth sighed before his voice hardened into something even sterner and more steadfast. “This is my mission and mine alone for the foreseeable future. If I don’t limit my interactions to what is absolutely necessary there may be unforeseen consequences.”

“Unforeseen consequences be damned. What about you? You’re looking out for us, but who’s watching out for you? Marth, you don’t have to carry this burden alone.”

Marth opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat, silence threading the tight space between him and the tactician before him. 

“You may believe you’re stronger on your own, but there is even greater strength if we work together. Chrom himself is a firm believer in these invisible ties that bind us together and empower us. If you want to help protect him like you say you do, the best place to do that may be alongside us, alongside the might of the Shepherds, medics that can do a better job at healing, and someone well-versed in strategy.”

Marth lowered his shoulders and leaned back against the oak tree. 

“I am inclined to agree, but it is not that simple.”

“If I can hazard a guess, does it have to do with fears of how you will be perceived?”

Beneath his mask, Marth frowned as he said, “I- I don’t follow.”

Robin shrugged as they said, “The Shepherds are made of people from all walks of life and you’ll see that they are pretty open-minded people as well.”

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand you.”

“What I’m saying is, it doesn’t matter if you’re a man or a woman, both, somewhere in between, or neither. A soldier is a soldier after all. To them, it doesn’t matter that I’m neither a man or woman, I’m simply a tactician.”

“Oh... I see. You are quite perceptive, I must say.”

Robin shrugged as they said, “That’s part of the job.”

Robin glanced down at Marth’s abdomen, setting the staff and tome aside and leaning in closer for a better look. 

“All healed. Might leave a faint scar though.” They tenderly rubbed it over with their thumb, asking, “How does it feel?”

Marth felt a wave of warmth wash over his face and was grateful he was wearing a mask.

“Um, uh, better actually,” he stammered.

“That’s good to hear. Let me bandage you up and I’ll move on to your arm.”

Robin produced a roll of white bandages, gingerly but firmly wrapping them around Marth’s waist. Marth shifted in place slightly as they did so, catching Robin’s attention. 

“It’s okay. I know it’s probably been a while since you’ve had someone this close to you physically, let alone handle your body like this.” 

“It’s alright, it is certainly not unwelcome.”

Marth was once again grateful he was wearing a mask. 

Robin cracked a small smile before finishing up, asking, “Alright, how does that feel? Is it too tight?”

“No, it feels fine.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Robin lowered Marth’s tunic back down and moved over to his arm. 

“I can fix this one up without having you undress. This one should be quicker.”

“Right.”

“Here, move your hand.”

Marth released his hand from the wound.

“How does it look?”

“The bleeding stopped,” Robin said, peering in closely. ”You did good holding the pressure.”

Robin poured water from the canteen over the gash, tenderly wiping the area with a clean cloth. 

Marth spoke up, asking, “How accepting is Chrom when it comes to… people like us?”

A smile immediately washed across Robin’s smile as they said, “Oh very. He corrects others if they make mistakes and if he feels like they’re doing it maliciously, well, he royally hands it to them in a duel. It happens rarely, but it’s always a treat. He actually listened to me and helped me figure myself out. If you feel like how you look doesn’t match how you feel, well Chrom and the others can help point you towards the right people to change that.”

“I see,” Marth said, nodding. ”I’ve heard many stories of Chrom during my time, and I’m glad to hear that many are in fact true. That last part is appealing, but I believe it’s best I hold off on that for a while.”

“No pressure, take as much time as you need to figure that out for yourself.”

Robin took the brown bottle and splashed some on a cloth before holding Marth’s arm in one hand and cleaning the wound with the other. His arm felt firm and fairly muscular in their hand, a fair amount more than their own they mentally noted. Robin set the cloth aside, flipping open a tome on the ground nearby and raising the end of the staff close to the wound. Holding Marth’s arm steady, a soft glow emanated from the polished orb on the staff, the wound slowly starting to close up.  
From behind the slits of their mask, Marth studied Robin’s face, noticing how the light cast shadows upon the contours of their face, watching their eyes peering at the wound with intense focus.

Breaking the brief silence, Marth asked, “How long ago did you realize you were neither a man or woman?”

“Hm,” Robin took a moment to ponder before continuing, “I think it was some weeks after I woke up and the Shepherds found me.”

“Woke up?”

“Ah yes, they found me asleep laying in the middle of a field. I didn’t have any memories at all, just the clothes on my back.”

“Interesting... did any of your memories ever return?”

Robin’s face softened in melancholy as they replied, “Unfortunately no. Somewhere around two decades worth of memories are all gone. I still know things like how to fight and battle tactics, as well as other basic facts, but not where or how I learned them or who I even was before all this.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Marth said solemnly, lowering his head slightly.

“It’s alright. It’s given me a certain sense of freedom to determine my own fate, unburdened by old memories. That’s how I rationalize it anyway. Chrom said that I can fill the void of missing memories by forming new ones with everyone. It doesn’t bother me anymore, my place is here now.”

“You’re certainly an optimistic person,” Marth remarked.

“Within reason,” Robin chuckled. “Tell me, if you don’t mind me asking, when did you realize yourself?”

“It’s been some months, though I believe there was an inkling of it beforehand. Like you, I’m similarly cut off from all I’ve known before. My homeland is long gone and I’ve been separated with the companions I traveled with. However, the solitude has given me plenty of time to think.”

“You don’t have to be alone,” Robin said. “It’s always nice to have the company of a kindred spirit. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders so to speak, especially if we have the same goal of protecting Chrom and the others. If I may continue to speak so plainly, it’s refreshing to talk to you and I think I favor your company.”

“Thank you, and likewise.” He sighed. “Maybe one day,” Marth said solemnly, “I will walk alongside you all. I do want to, truly, but-“

“Unforeseen consequences.”

“Exactly. I am bound to my duty and cannot let anything get in the way to endanger that. As such, I must keep my distance.”

“Still, it might be nice to have a companion of sorts. If you’re going to continue to follow us as a shadow, you’re welcome to visit me at the edge of camp on nights like these. You’ve established yourself as a capable fighter with strength that rivals Chrom’s and I find your resolve both noble and admirable. You intrigue me, Marth, and it appears that we are both birds of a feather so to speak. So then, what do you say?”

“I feel compelled to agree. As long as no one sees me here, then alright.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Robin glanced down at the flower bed surrounding them, the flowers themselves star-shaped with six linen white, tapered petals and a bright yellow cup-shaped corona in the center.

“I’ve been reading up on flowers lately, I think these are daffodils.”

“They’re quite lovely, I must admit,” Marth said, his voice softening slightly.

“Do you know what these ones mean?”

Marth tilted his head as he asked, “Flowers have meanings?’

“Of course,” Robin replied, “each one means different things.”

“Admittedly, there aren’t many flowers where I come from, though I am partial to daisies. What do these ones mean?”

“From what I’ve read, they’re among the first to bloom after winter ends and spring arrives.” Robin met Marth’s eyes as they said, “Because of that, they symbolize rebirth, new beginnings, and change.”

Marth’s eyes lingered upon Robin’s for a moment, a brief but knowing silence filling the small space between them.

Finally, with a hint of a smile on his face, Marth said, “They are quite beautiful, I must admit.”

“I agree,” Robin said, “I agree.”

Robin removed the staff and set it down on the ground, their hand lingering for a bit on Marth’s arm, gently thumbing over the newly formed pale scar.

“You should be fully healed now, but I still recommend you get some rest.”

“Feels much better,” Marth said. “Thank you, truly.”

“It was the least I could do. Admittedly, my sewing skills are a bit rough, so I can’t help you much with your clothes.”

“That is quite alright, I picked up sewing from my mother long ago. Being the dancer in her army, she traveled a lot and saw a lot of action on the battlefield, often having to patch up her own garments. I can mend my own clothes.”

“A dancer huh? I can see that, there’s a certain nimbleness and finesse in your movements while you fight. What about your father?”

“He was... a kind, wonderful man that often saw the best in people. I think you would have liked him.”

“I’m sure he was a great man. If your parents could see you now, I think they would be proud of you. I know we haven’t known each other for long Marth, but you are amongst the strongest people I have had the pleasure of meeting.”

“Heh, this is the most I’ve spoken to anyone for quite some while. Do you always use so much flattery talking to everyone you meet?”

“Just the ones I like,” Robin said, shrugging. “When I met Vaike I wanted nothing to do with him, the man forgot to bring his own axe to battle the first time I met him! Thank goodness Miriel picked it up or he wouldn’t have heard the end of it from Sully.”

Marth allowed himself to laugh.

“I like this,” he said softly.

“I can’t help but agree,” Robin said. “I’ll stay with you a bit longer, if you don’t mind.”

They reached inside their robe and produced a wrapped loaf of bread, handing it to Marth.

“That sounds good to me,” he said.

They both sat there alongside one another, enjoying each other’s company and a rare moment of respite from the world, accompanied by silent oaks and the soft whistle of a gentle breeze blowing through gently swaying beds of freshly bloomed daffodils.


End file.
